Always the Hero
by Jidt
Summary: All great rulers have something in common - experience. Maybe not as Kings or Presidents, but as warriors, hardened and experienced, they know their people, and the threats they face, personally. Danny's got a lot to learn before he's ready to take his place in the Zone, but will learning it make, or break him? (Not your average apocalyptic story, empty world is not a happy place.)
1. Chapter 1

People always took him for granted – the excellent grades that suddenly plummeted during high school was taken as a loss of focus, the family black sheep who, apparently, failed to inherit the genes that were so obvious in his family; the obvious physical failure as he remained the short, puny weakling while his peers grew and filled out; constantly coming home late, never really bothering to give his reasons… the list continued for a while. Daniel Jack Fenton was common, boring, bordering on sub-standard.

That was the point.

Fenton was someone you could look over, dismiss, and never consider again. Fenton was inconspicuous, boring, and of no concern.

Fenton, despite his family's… profession… was never to be held in the same light as Phantom. The thought to compare the two never crossed anyone's mind. Unless it was shoved straight in their faces, so blatantly obvious that no one could deny it, there was no was Fenton could ever have anything to do with Phantom.

Again, that was the point. Two completely obvious personas, resting on a single person: Danny.

There was Fenton, and there was Phantom. The differences were the separation, and no one drew connections.

This started to change around junior year of high school.

Sam and Tucker, they were the first to notice – as it should be, they are his best friends, after all, despite past dealings and betrayals. Sure, they might not have been as close as they once were, but when a secret that intimate is shared between a group, bonds are formed and reinforced to the point of unbreakable. They were separate more often, but when the duo did see their friend, looking more tired and worn down every day, they noticed.

The long Thanksgiving break Danny had spent "camping with friends" (studying and training with Clockwork, he told the friends covering for him) wasn't nearly enough for him to have grown so much. The sudden and terrifying growth spurt wasn't commented on as Danny, now at least three inches taller than Tucker (who stood about 5'8"), had to bend slightly to reach the books in his locker, which he had purposefully put at the perfect level when he'd first gotten them. Tucker and Sam shared concerned looks, but didn't delve into the information Danny didn't willingly divulge. The halfa didn't speak until Lancer's class at the end of the day (that man was just following their class through the years, they'd never be rid of him), and when Lancer threatened detention for refusal to answer, his voice made his friends jump.

It wasn't what he said ("New Orleans"), or the exhausted tone it held, but the fact that, finally, his voice had changed – and the three had heard it before, nearly two years ago. Danny looked back at the two sitting behind him, and sighed.

Dash Baxter, who hadn't really changed at all save the 20 pounds he'd manage to put on last year (not good pounds either – apparently his place on the football team was in question until he got rid of the impending beer belly) and the disturbing mustache he'd decided to sport, laughed out loud at Danny's answer.

"What's that, Fenton? You actually sounded like a guy for a second there." He sneered, and his usual followers (which had shrunk slightly as Kwan had moved to L.A. and Star had recently transferred schools after a brush with one of the more perverted seniors of the school (he was being held until the trial – attempted date rape was a rather serious offense – though with his rich uncle and expensive defending attorney, no one knew for sure if he'd actually be punished for it…), laughed and sneered along with him. The man-boy looked around, nodding as the approval of his group spurred him on.

"I mean, you've always been a girl, this new trick of yours isn't going to change anything."

"Mr. Baxter, if we could get back to the lesson, I'm sure both Mr. Fenton and Coach Boyed would appreciated it." Lancer said, the veiled threat/promise getting Dash's attention and made the matter drop.

Sam and Tucker were the only ones who noticed Danny's hands, clenched into fists and trembling. Again, they said nothing to their friend, just exchanged a meaningful look the other boy missed, and shrugged. Danny took a barely noticeable breath, eyes half-closing, and exhaled, relaxing.

_~One Week Earlier~_

Danny was alone at lunch, surrounded by people. Tucker sat on his left, Sam on his right. Valerie sat at the edge of the table, backpack within easy reach as she tapped her foot impatiently on the cheap linoleum – she had finished her half-sandwich quickly, and was just waiting for school to be over now. Unsurprisingly, the band geeks occupied the opposite side of the table, swapping Magic cards and talking about next week's game they had to do half-time for. No one marked it as strange when Danny didn't eat past his first few bites – this was common, since freshman year. His appetite was sated easily, and rarely did he eat anything at lunch at all anyways. This had caused a modicum of concern once, when Mrs. Ikason noticed his lack of lunch for four days in a row, but that hype had died down when he'd made up some excuse of eating large breakfasts and dinners so he didn't have to pack a lunch or some similar nonsense. She'd just nodded, accepting the empty reason, and he hadn't been bothered about it since.

The flimsy little apple and peanut butter sandwich he'd thrown together that morning after missing eating anything the day before was more than enough for him, though he kept that little fast to himself. In the beginning, he'd have to eat more than he was now, and he wasn't going to bother his friends with the subtle changes in his physiology – not that they really needed to know anyways. His problems were just that – his. They had shown their hand months ago, and he knew exactly where he stood in their eyes.

Apparently, he was too scary. Phantom was evolving, growing, as he grew. Though, to be fair, Fenton was keeping pace, though this recent growth spurt and abrupt voice change were, apparently, only the beginning. Danny had learned from Clockwork, as he dodged the same ecto-blast sent through time and space over and over again, what being half-ghost had in store for him, personally.

Humans, as a rule, don't officially stop growing until they're 25, when they start dying. But… how can a ghost die? True, Danny was only half-ghost, so Fenton would, eventually, pass on, but with Phantom there to keep a grip on youth and whatever immortality can be assigned to a spectral being, aging would be a chore in and of itself. According to Clockwork, time seemed to be the key point here. He was given a choice to either continue on earth, struggling with the couple hundred years the Time Ghost had near-assured him of (but not outright – the future isn't certain, after all), or, once he was technically old enough (25, funnily enough), he could "claim all that was his in the Zone". Heck in the halfa knew what the Ancient was talking about… but it meant that he'd become more or less a denizen of the Ghost Zone. Sure, he'd still be half-human, and able to visit the Human World when the opportunity arose, but he'd make his home in the Zone. The old ghost already had it all figured out – a cleverly faked death, dealing with parents, friends, the authorities that would search into his inevitable demise… even Danielle, wherever she was, would be able to rest knowing his decision. (He hadn't seen the clone in years, since he 'cured' her… although, according to Clockwork, she'd be able to age and live on as normally as any super powered human could; Vlad hadn't ever managed to pin down the exact molecular composition of Danny – Danielle was just a human with ghost powers, as opposed to his perfect balance between the two. The same held true for the fruitloop. Danny was truly the only halfa in existence.)

Jazz was gone, taken in a car accident that had shattered his life – the drunk driver had totaled his Ferrari along with Jazz's little hybrid, but had enough money to make bail and pay off nearly everyone involved – the "Blood Money", as Jack had called it, was only used because the family didn't have enough money to cover funeral costs. The rest had been donated to the abstract foundation around Amity that helped cover damaged caused by ghosts. The man's excuse was that he'd been distracted by a fight between Phantom and a robot (Skulker hadn't dared venture out after Phantom had taken his pain out on the ghost), and Jack and Maddie had bought it, hook, line, and sinker. Never mind the man's intoxication that neared-toxic, the only thing that mattered was that Phantom was involved, even if he had been the one to fly their daughters body to the nearest hospital, where she'd woken up long enough to smile at him and say "Hero".

Their quest for 'righteous vengeance", as they called it, had managed to take down nearly every ghost that frequented the town; if they didn't capture and destroy any specter foolish enough to come against them, the Phantom would find whoever escaped and made sure they never even thought of coming out of the Zone again. Sam and Tucker had tried to support their friend (this was before everything happened, of course), but couldn't really do more than watch as Phantom let his pain and suffering out on anyone, ghost or otherwise, who dared mess with him or his town. Dash had backed off during this time, not so much out of respect for the suffering, but because Danny had broken his nose the first time the blond had so much as spoken to the boy.

When that anguish, that pain, began to fade, Danny closed himself off. He couldn't freely 'go ghost', as he used to call it, not with his parents roaming the town constantly looking for the ghost that, to them, had killed their daughter. Phantom was hunted, while Fenton was left to fend for himself at home. His parents left him money daily, out of the patent funds they had finally registered their inventions under – past experience had proven that they were incapable of dealing with money well, and the couple million they had gotten from just the Specter Speeder alone was nearly gone already, into more inventions and anti-ghost devices, although the couple hundred they left for Danny on the counter each morning showed that their other inventions were still reeling in the dough, with new ones being registered all the time. Maddie's previous paranoia of sharing her inventions went out the window when Jazz died, and now ghost hunters everywhere were sporting Fentontech.

Danny rarely spent any of what the two adults left him, buying the bare minimum food he needed to get by, and the medical equipment necessary in his line of… work. The rest he saved, and invested.

People though Fenton was below-average, but that was because he wanted them to. Even his friends were unaware of just how smart he was. Which is sad, really. The boy wanted to be an astronaut all his life, did they really think he'd go after such a lofty goal without knowing exactly what it took to stand above the world? He came from a family of geniuses, had been building (and destroying) his parent's little toys for nearly a decade now, and was taught daily by the Ghost of Time. He was equal to, if not above, the intelligence of his family. So he crunched the numbers, took a chance (and asked Clockwork for hints), and invested everything. (Although to be fair, the Ancient was probably only helping because he had told Danny himself that getting a practical, normal job wouldn't really be possible for a superhero, and Danny did need something to eat, if only occasionally.)

Everything he had right now was worth double the Manson "Fortune", and the foretold drop soon meant he'd sell of a fair share of some of it, and he could live on just that for a couple years, at least. Of course, Danny didn't like selling dying stock all that much – meant he was ripping off some poor sap who bought right before it failed, but in small chunks he could get away with knowing not all was lost. No one knew but those he dealt with directly, and Clockwork, of course.

As Danny sat there, looking at the browned apple slices in the greasy peanut butter on stale bread, he decided. Sam and Tucker had distanced themselves when he'd started to open up to them, telling them how it was, being half-ghost, what he had to do to survive (he didn't actively, but ghosts need to feed on emotion to survive. Phantom did it instinctively, and so did Fenton, apparently), and what he would eventually have to do to remain… 'alive' (The more powerful the ghost, the more energy it takes to fuel that power. Danny was the most powerful in existence, barring the Ancients, and, as such, had been taking the ectoplasm supplements provided by his guardian as meal replacements on a nearly-normal basis. But Fenton needed food too, little as it was, so he saved the thermoses full of green goop for dinner alone. Eventually though… that wouldn't be enough, and only the ghost zone's ambient energy would keep him 'full'.)

They had accused him of betraying them, and the town, of all things. "Amity needs Phantom, and you're just gonna leave and live with your little ghost friends?", and "That's not normal, dude; that's not what a human would do. You can't just leave everything here."

They had interrupted him, when he had been trying to tell them that he didn't have to be there full time, just enough to recharge, but their outbursts put things in a new light for the halfa. Sure, things had been rather strained since the Disasteroid thing, where he'd saved the world as Phantom, while Fenton was later found hiding in a broom closet. Jazz had told him, before everything, that she'd nearly told their parents everything, when the jet had lost control and crashed, when she thought he'd died, and the robot had been discovered. But when Sam and Tucker had nearly abandoned him when he'd finally been back to normal, when Sam all but told him that Phantom was his new definition, that Fenton alone wasn't enough anymore, something in their friendship had broken, and it had been degrading ever since.

Lunch ended with an ear-ringing alarm, as the students were summoned back to their classes and work. Danny stood up first, throwing his bag over his shoulder and walking off, not saying a word. Sam and Tucker followed soon after, with Valerie trailing behind. Danny veered into his next class then, and the other trio kept walking onto their own shared class, leaving the halfa alone in his Chemistry class, which, actually, was quickly becoming his favorite class.

When he sat and began pulling out his books, spreading them across the lab table that he apparently had exclusive rights to, Mr. Collins grinned and walked over to him, a recent test in hand.

"Well, congratulations Danny, looks like you're, once again, top of the class. What exactly are you doing in your other classes that made all your old teachers warn me about you?" He said jokingly, dropping the packet on the table, a big green 98 circled on top. Danny smiled, and just shrugged.

With the ghosts to scared to even think about bothering him, and his friend's alienation, Danny had much more time than he used to, and he used that to study, work, and train – and it showed. His little study-sessions with Clockwork helped immensely as well, since the Ancient was a much better teacher, and learning while being shot at tended to make what he was learning much easier to remember. Especially with the facts interspersed with the Zone's own teachings – history was much more interesting when it involved parallel wars in another dimension.

As such, his grades had been steadily increasing, though he made a conscious effort not to make it to noticeable. Fenton was not allowed to go from dummy to genius within a week. Chemistry, however, was particularly interesting and rewarding for him, and holding back on tests was a lot more difficult for this class than it was for others. As it was, he could've gotten all the answers, including the extra credit conversion computations, perfectly right, but had intentionally missed some of what should've been the more complex and difficult questions. Though apparently he was the only one in class capable of mentally calculating chemical compositions and proper physics formulae… one slip up in class and everyone knew about that, but that was a while ago, and the hype had long died down.

The class filled up quickly, the 5-minute passing period was barely long enough to get books and run to the other side of the school, so the bell was ringing just seconds after the last person sprinted through the door, like every day. The period passed quickly, the lecture on carbon and its many forms ending in crushing charcoal and hammering pencils, with black dust flying everywhere and covering the class in soot.

Luckily, he'd been able to get a free period at the very end of the day, and left after that final class, ducking into a janitor's closet and transforming, flying out through the roof and heading to Fenton Works. He remained out of sight as he phased into the basement, checking for his parents (just a precaution, really, they were never home anymore) before becoming tangible and removing his glove, pressing his thumb against the DNA scanner, which beeped and opened the portal doors.

The green swirling of the Zone had only become stronger as time passed, and the split between dimensions solidified and became stronger. The opening location had, at first, flitted through the Zone, a random portal that would flit through different areas of the Zone, before it finally stabilized where it was now, just a few hours from the Land of the Far Frozen. That itself had dissuaded some of the less daring ghosts from 'visiting' Amity Park, as Frostbite took Danny's protection seriously, as the Savior of the Ghost Zone, and had placed a small squad of giant yeti ghosts to protect the portal. Only the ghosts able to take on a dozen of them had been able to enter, and even then they had usually been rather beat up from the fight, and as such been easy for Danny to defeat.

The guard had been reduced to two since Jazz's death.

When Danny did enter the Zone, the two yetis bowed from their positions on either side of the swirling mess, and the ghost boy sighed. No matter what he said or asked, the overwhelming respect and admiration of the Far Frozen just wouldn't be diminished, and the ghosts had recently taken to calling him Prince of the Zone, though neither Clockwork nor Frostbite would divulge the reason. They would just smile, and tell him that he would know in time.

In fact, that was the reason he was in the Zone now. The two guardian ghosts had asked him, while he was there training that last Sunday, to visit the Ancient's Tower, because they had news for him. Said Clock Tower was about an hour's flight from the portal, and Danny flew that in silence, keeping a wary eye out for anything that would pose a threat. None appeared, which wasn't really a surprise.

The Tower loomed over a barren rocky asteroid field, Pariah's Keep a small figure in the western distance, with Pandora's Palace in the east. The right and left hands of the King, when there had been one. Danny, out of habit, landed on the doorstep and walked in, used to having to let himself in and climb the stairs up to the viewing room to find the Ancient. This time, however, he walked in on a conference.

Clockwork was seated near the end of a long table, to the right of the head. Frostbite was next to him, with, surprisingly, Ghost Writer next to him. Pandora sat to the left of the head, with a ghost Danny didn't recognize seated next to her, clad in similar dress as the queen, a gold and white tunic/toga, though he wore golden armor over his. Next to him sat an Observant, his elegant and slightly obnoxious robes indicating a higher class, something a member of the High Council would wear. (Clockwork had taught Danny of some Zone politics – the King ruled the people, but the Council, if unanimous, could change a ruling of the King. The King couldn't appoint the Councilors, instead they were chosen by the leaders of minor rulings within the Zone itself.) At the very end of the table, sat, to Danny's surprise, sat a trio of his more deadly enemies, Undergrowth, Nocturne, and Vortex. The ghost boy swallowed nervously – alone they were a challenge, but could be beaten, but if all three decided to team up?

"Come, Great One, and take your seat. No hostilities are present at this council, and those who would break tradition shall face the full wrath of those a law broken." Frostbite smiled a toothy grin at Danny, and gestured to the very head of the table. Danny hesitated at taking a spot that would be a perfect target for anyone against him, a single chair in the center of the edge, as opposed to the three on the opposite side, but with nothing else open, he was forced, for courtesy's sake, to take the head chair without a struggle.

As soon as he sat, Clockwork stood, angling himself to look at nearly all the occupants of the table.

"Most of you know why I've asked you here today, and I thank you for coming. Two years ago, today, the Shadow King, Pariah Dark, was defeated in single-combat by one Danny Phantom, also known as Daniel Fenton. According to tradition and law, he has been under observation since then, and unaware of both this and the implications of his actions."

Danny swallowed thickly, looking from the Ancient to the other ghosts seated around the table, the implications of constant observation sinking in. He hadn't taken Jazz's death well, and if this was a trial…

"As his guardian, I discussed with the others who were assigned this task, and we agreed that, even in a state of grief, Mr. Phantom has conducted himself as befitting, never outright destroying or permanently maiming any ghost, instead choosing to release them back home, where they could recover and learn from their defeat. Past experiences have shown qualities and skills that befit his intended position."

Danny was thoroughly lost by now, listening to the praise with a look of complete confusion, which Clockwork smiled slightly at.

"He has been tested, and succeeded against the three challengers, even though one," the Ancient glared pointedly at Vortex. "hadn't yet been cleared to offer such a challenge. Let us hear their reports."

Clockwork sat, and the trio at the end of the table stood as one, and Danny flinched slightly at the sudden movement. Frostbite glanced in the halfa's direction and gave a reassuring grin, which Danny shakily attempted to return. Vortex was the first to speak, asthmatic gasps interspersed in his sentences.

"The ghost child failed my first attack, but somehow gained a portion of my abilities. I was impressed with his ability to adapt to the situation, and use it to his advantage. He has my vote." The Storm spirit sat, and Clockwork nodded, gesturing at Nocturne to continue.

"Not only was the boy able to break my casting himself, but learned the difficult art of dream walking without practice, or, I believe, knowledge of how complicated the skill he apparently possessed was. His mind is strong, and he was willing to admit weakness and accept help. He has my vote." Nocturne sat next to Vortex, and only Undergrowth was left standing.

"I was most impressed by the astounding speed at which the Phantom mastered an entire element, though not without help." He gave Frostbite a nod. "He hesitated little to do what he had to, though he did so with no loss of life, even against a possessed friend. He has my vote."

Clockwork nodded as the Plant ghost sat, and stood again. Danny sat, dumbstruck at the words of what he had considered his enemies, and looked at Clockwork, silently begging an explanation.

"It is the decision of this council, upheld since its formation over a millennia ago, that Danny Phantom/Fenton is worthy and able to take his rightful inheritance. Do you, Head of the Council, accept our decree?" He looked at the Observant, along with everyone else at the table. The green gelatinous ghost 'stood', and took a deep, empty breath.

"We accept this decision, and herby proclaim Daniel James Fenton, also known as Danny Phantom, heir to the Shadow King, Pariah Dark, and King of the Ghost Zone."

This proclamation was met with a tense silence as the entire table looked at the halfa, who sat there in stunned shock. He blinked once, twice, then asked, in a tiny voice:

"What?"

All the ghosts looked at him, then, as one, stood and bowed, though the Observant did so with visible hesitation and some incomprehensible mutterings Danny barely heard.

"Danny," Clockwork began. "It is the tradition of the Ghost Zone that, if and when the High King is defeated in single-combat, and the opponent is the lesser of the evils, said opponent will be given a trail period, unknown to him or her, as three or more ghosts on the Council observe and test the successor. If he or she is deemed worthy, they inherit the throne the battled for. This last happened more than 2,000 years ago, when Pariah defeated his father and assumed the position." The Ancient gestured to the halfa, having resumed his seat along with the rest of the ghosts.

"But… wait. You're saying, you want me to be King. Of the entire Ghost Zone." Danny said, hand rubbing his forehead.

Clockwork measured the ghosts' reactions out of the corner of his eye, grinning to himself as they did exactly what he knew they would – nothing. He turned that grin to Danny.

"Daniel, you really should've expected this." He said, counting on his charge's intelligence to show itself. He was not disappointed.

"You mean, all those lessons, the history, the training… you were just getting me ready so you could drop this huge bomb on me." Danny said, oddly calm. Clockwork nodded, and the other ghosts watched as Danny took a deep breath, eyes closed. When he opened them again, though, they were burning. Pride and confidence shown from them, if tinged with betrayal.

"You'll have to give me a while to get used to this…"

Clockwork chuckled, along with the rest (except that stupid Observant!) of the ghosts.

"Of course. We are a rather long-lived people, and are used to waiting, even for our King. You are not expected to do much quite yet…" He looked around the room. "I think we can all agree to give you a few years before you're expected to do any… heavy ruling."

Danny opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again.

"A few years? You made it sound like this is an immediate thing!" Danny said, giving Clockwork an incredulous look. The Time Master tilted his head.

"Now what made you think that?" He asked, more innocent that he had any right to sound, and Danny just stood there, flabbergasted, as Frostbite started laughing, a contagious, roaring laughter that echoed through the Tower. The Ice King stood.

"Young King, your human side betrays you. Time, for us ghosts, is much less valuable than it is for the living (except, of course, Clockwork), and a few years to you is but a small lapse of time for those who have existed for millennia. Enjoy your life, before you assume the responsibilities of a King." Frostbite said, making his way to Danny and resting a hand on the sitting halfa's shoulder. Pandora, opposite Clockwork, spoke up for the first time in the meeting.

"Frostbite is correct, though you should understand that even the title of High King carries weight, even without immediate action to assume the throne." She said, serious, looking at the yeti, who shrugged.

"I am sure the Great One is more than capable of adapting to the situation, as has been praised in this very meeting."

Pandora gave Frostbite an appraising look.

"Regardless of ability, some things are better explained, especially these. Young Phantom has been left in the dark on multiple occasions, sometimes with negative consequences. Besides," She looked at Danny, "I'm sure he'd appreciate an explanation… for once."

Danny gave her a wry grin, slightly exasperated.

"Well, this is a first. It's not like I just sat through a meeting making me freaking King of the Ghost Zone, with no prior knowledge, or anything." That, at least, got a few nervous chuckles out of a few ghosts (Frostbite, Pandora, and, surprisingly, Vortex), and Danny sighed.

"Clockwork, I've put my trust in you often enough to know that you'll do what's meant, even if it's not what's wanted. You wouldn't pull something like this lightly. I gave up getting an explanation out of you long ago. But if you guys _did_ decide to let me in on what's going on…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely, arms open. Frostbite and Pandora shrugged as one, turning to Clockwork.

The leader of the Far Frozen was probably the only ghost present Danny actually considered a friend – sad thing really, since the yeti ghost was alone in that category. Clockwork was more of a mentor or father-figure. Pandora he'd only really met once, during that whole Box Ghost incident, but from her subtle placing of her seat on his left side, he got the feeling he'd be getting to know her pretty well. Ghost Writer had eventually warmed up to him, after an explanation about the accident with the poem, and with Clockwork sending him to the Literature ghost for extra study and English tutoring.

Danny had no idea who the ghost on Pandora's side was, but based on the shining gold armor and multitude of medals (Greek, but still obvious), he was pretty important too. The Observant, of course, was supposed to be a neutral party here (though it was obvious that the Council was accepting this only out of tradition and rules, and very grudgingly.) Vortex, Nocturne, and Undergrowth were wild cards, enemies until now, when he found out that they'd been sent to test him. He'd suspend judgment for now, but would keep his eyes open and back to the wall.

Clockwork shrugged back to the Greek and Yeti, turning to face Danny.

"There is much you need to know, though little I am," He turned to glare at the Observant, who ignored him quite thoroughly. "_Allowed_ to say. There are powers passed from King to King – how, we're not sure, but inheritance rights surrounding rulers here have never been quite clear. I expect, given your previous rate of growth and learning, that you'll be able to master the basic abilities befitting a King within a few weeks, if you practice. The more advanced powers will come later, when you've officially assumed the throne, so you don't need to worry about those quite yet. I cannot tell you what powers to expect, but be aware of their appearance, and learn to control them quickly, as some are rather dangerous."

The Observant cleared its throat, its single eye narrowing into a warning glare, which Clockwork returned just as heatedly.

"The rest of your powers," the Ancient continued, looking away from the green ghost and turning back to the young King. "Will be, as you would say, upgraded, in both power and ability. We will hold the Ring of Rage and Crown of Fire until your official coronation, but the claim you have over them will allow some of their power to be used by you, regardless of proximity to the objects themselves.

A final word of warning – with your new position comes the need to defend it, though not as dedicatedly as you would expect. Most ghosts will respect the Savior of the Ghost Zone, as you are known," He gave a pointed look at Frostbite, who grinned and shrugged. "and will accept your rule over the reign of Dark with celebration. Others, from the darker areas of the Zone, will not be so happy. While I do not foresee any immediate threat to you or your town, be prepared to defend both against some of the more powerful tenants of the Zone. Remember your position when in need, and rely upon your place in the Zone to defend it."

The Observant stood, clearing its throat (what even… how does a green blob…whatever.)

"Clockwork, you speak more than is proper. Cease now, lest you interfere with what must happen!"

Danny was amazed that the ghost didn't evaporate under the fiery glares of all the ghosts at the table. It seemed there was no love lost between the Council and the ghosts it supposedly ruled, and the green eyeball stood its ground for a few mere seconds before sitting, 'coughing' a little, uncomfortable. Clockwork didn't turn away from the Observant as he spoke again.

"That's all I can give away, without interfering with time, something our _friend_ here, should remember that I am master over. I know when something can be told, and what must be withheld. And what I have said is all that I can, at the moment. Everything else will be revealed, in time."

The Observant 'stood', and floated out of the Tower, without a word. Every ghost (and Half-ghost) present grinned as the door slammed shut after the eyeball. Frostbite stood and walked over to the halfa, placing a furry hand over his shoulder, giant paw nearly covering the broad shoulder it was resting on.

"While we would all like to sit and talk, I assume the time has gotten away from us." He looked at Clockwork. "Well, most of us." The Time ghosts nodded, also 'standing', though he didn't move from where his seat was placed.

"Indeed. I believe that the new King and I have some business to attend to, if he wishes it."

Danny, not used to actually being asked anything by the Ancient, nodded, blinking in surprise. The other seated ghosts stood as one (kinda weird looking, since some were substantially taller than others, and took longer to stand), and bowed again, before filing out of the Tower, leaving only the Ancient and Halfa.

The two looked after the ghosts until the door had closed completely, and Danny broke out laughing.

"You're a twisted manipulator, you know that, right?" The halfa asked Clockwork, who was stifling his own laughter. The Time Ghost grinned.

"What did you expect?"

Danny smiled. "Well, certainly not this – you've been spouting riddles about inheritance and 'my place in the Zone', but… I never imagined you were sitting on something like _this_."

Clockwork returned the grin, though the air of knowing mystery he seemed to emit was obvious in his expression.

"Of course you didn't. That's the point. If the King proves themselves worthy, without knowing they are doing so, doesn't that make them all the better? Besides, you have had enough to worry about, without this hanging over your head." The Ancient looked at the halfa sympathetically, laying a sad hand on his shoulder. Danny shrugged.

"You know, I think this is actually some of the better news I've gotten in a while. This, I can deal with. I've been wondering what I'm going to do with my life… having some sort of direction is nice, for a change."

Clockwork squeezed the young King's shoulder comfortingly, then released him and floated to reclaim his seat at the table.

"Admittedly, the Human World would suit you ill. There are too many variables to be certain of which future would have been yours, but in very few would you have been happy. Of course, the only reason I can even tell you this is because none are possibilities any more, even if you choose to renounce the Throne."

Danny looked at his Guardian sharply.

"Is that even possible?" he asked, and Clockwork raised an eyebrow.

"You think you'd be forced to rule against your will? The very fact that you hold the title of King makes you powerful beyond nearly all others, even if you do not choose to act upon it. The power and right to rule is yours, whether you want it or not. However, the choice to exercise and rule is _your_ choice, and yours alone."

Danny nodded, a far-away look in his eyes. Clockwork frowned. Within the Zone there were

tales of Kings who forsook their crowns, and none were good. Beings granted such power, without a

reason directing that strength usually lost their minds, ending up murderous and vengeful, if only for something to do. A King is a King, after all. Whether they acknowledge it or not, the rest of the Zone does. Ghosts daring enough to climb out of the shadows for a challenge prove a small respite from the respectful nothingness that comes from being the most powerful being in the Zone.

But Danny wasn't like that.

"No, I don't think you'll have to worry about that. You said I'd have a few years until I was expected to rule, right?" Danny asked, and Clockwork nodded.

"Then I think I'll try the 'normal' thing. Graduate, get a job, maybe try college a little bit…"

He looked down at his hands. "I've been fighting, and protecting this town for so long though, I can't remember what exactly 'normal' is." Danny laughed breathily, closing his eyes. "I think I'll try it out for a bit, see what it's like."

Clockwork smiled sadly.

"That's what I knew you would say. However, there are some unspoken expectations that come with being King, you know."

Danny blinked, and looked at the Ancient.

"I thought it was just those tests you guys were talking about. What else do you want me to do?" Clockwork shook his head.

"It's not a rule, or law, or anything official – just tradition. Ancient tradition." He floated towards the staircase leading up to the Observatory, where the Monitors of Time were kept, and Danny stood, following.

"You've learned, in your lessons here and in school, of the great rulers of old. Arthur, Charlemagne, Napoleon, Queen Elizabeth, Churchill, Roosevelt, Lincoln, Washington, Caesar, Alexander, Joseph II, even Hitler and Genghis Khan. All these people, men and women, were great in the eyes of history, regardless of motivation or sins. They all took control of their people, and used their power to make them great, if only for a while. Hitler and Khan were both horrendous, killing millions in their quests, but their abilities and skills took them to the top, and kept them there for years.

The Zone is similar. There are rulers, both good and bad, studied in our own history. Dark's reign was one of the more horrific, but there have been equal, if not worse, atrocities by a King. Dark's most awful battle, the Massacre of Fifty Thousand is still talked about today in only whispers and fearful tones. A Queen who ruled millennia before the Americas were discovered did so for nearly a thousand years, and in that time the Shadow realm was created by the Ancients for the sole purpose of holding truly evil ghosts, starting with her.

There are so many similarities between the two worlds you belong to, Daniel. The Zone has suffered wars parallel to Earth's, and vice-versa. The Civil war lit the fuse on Dark's imminent imprisonment, while the Massacre he wrought caused such a loss of existence here that the balance between the two worlds shifted, and the Black Plague swept through Europe, seeking to replace the void the destruction had left in the Zone."

Danny shivered, phantom fingers running up his spine as he imagined the death and suffering both worlds experienced at the hands of his predecessor.

"But what does this have to do with tradition? So far all I've gotten is no massacring, which really wasn't a concern in the first place." Clockwork shook his head slightly, a grin ghosting across his neutral expression.

"I'm aware of that, but you must understand that, even for the atrocities wrought by his hand, Dark was still a powerful and influential King. To be remembered in the essence of the Zone itself is an achievement few have achieved, but in his earlier years Dark was one of the greatest rulers this place has had. The power he wielded drove him to insanity after a few thousand years, though this happened to few ghosts before him.

The point I'm trying to get to, Daniel, is that all these leaders had one thing in common. They all were someone, something, before they were King. A common ghost can never hope to defeat a ruler and claim their place, but a ghost with power, with experience, that can overcome the challenges and overpower their King? They have been ruling already. These ghosts are leaders, strategists, warriors – they have all fought for their lives, and know what it takes to be a ruler."

Danny opened his mouth to say something to this, but the Ancient cut him off.

"You yourself have faced many challenges in these regards, I have not forgotten. However, you almost always do so alone. You're so used to being the only on able to succeed, to take upon yourself responsibilities others would collapse under. This is both a strength, and weakness. You are capable of so much on your own, but you do not know how to share this burden."

Clockwork shook his head.

"I am sorry you've been so alone." He said, shoulder drooping. Danny frowned, looking at his mentor.

"Clockwork, I didn't decide to go out as Phantom, to save people, to protect them, expecting to have that much support. Sam and Tucker were there, and later Jazz… but they never knew everything. Dani was too young, too inexperienced to need to know the things I do, and Vlad is too much of a fruit-loop. Don't apologize. Although, I am wondering if you have some plan up your sleeve to rectify this apparent failing I have." Danny said, with a smirk at the Time Master, who returned it with a decided-ly plotting grin. When he saw that expression on his mentor's face, Danny was suddenly regretting asking such an open-ended question.

"Why yes. Yes I do. But you're not going to like it. Return here in a few weeks, after your graduation. Congratulations, by the way. I hear you'll be asked to give a speech at the ceremony. Something about turning your life around." Clockwork smirked at the long-suffering sigh Danny gave at this news, and summoned a portal for the young King to travel back home through.

"You're not going to tell me what you've got planned then?" Danny asked, taking one step through the way. Clockwork just continued grinning.

"In time." He said, and with his staff, pushed his charge in the rest of the way. "In time."

~A few hours later~

Danny got back from the Zone just as his parents walked in the front door, but the thud from the closet in his room as he fell out of the portal didn't get noticed. Not surprising – it was nearly 11pm, and, like always, Jack and Maddie were barely able to get up the stairs to bed, let alone notice a thud and curse as Danny landed on some old boots.

The two trudged up the steps, exhausted, like usual, from their daily ghost hunt. These started around 5am, and for them to be getting home at 11 was actually earlier than usual, if only by an hour or so.

The halfa stayed still and silent as he listened to the footsteps outside his door as his parents headed to their own rooms, opening the door and slipping downstairs once the coast was clear. Unsurprisingly, the front door had been left wide open once again, muddy boot-prints tracking from where his dad had haphazardly parked the filthy RV half on the side-walk all the way up the stairs to the bedroom. Apparently the pits surrounding the lake outside town had been today's search area, because they'd brought half the stuff home on them.

Danny just sighed as he grabbed the mop and broom from the closet where he usually kept them, freezing the mud then sweeping it up, then mopping up the rest. It was becoming a more usual occurrence, now that his parents had moved out of Amity proper in their search for Phantom, to keep cleaning up their messes, and basically taking care of them so they didn't wear themselves into the ground. He'd be turning off their alarm again tonight, sure they' be mad, but they needed to sleep. And they'd just blame Phantom, as usual.

The kitchen was just as he left it that morning, clean except for a single plate of slightly-burnt toast he'd left out hoping his parents would eat something. No such luck. He'd have to find a way to put some sandwiches or something in the RV tomorrow, hopefully they hadn't put in the newest ghost shield yet – it was a lot more sensitive than the previous models, able to affect him even as a human.

Danny rubbed his eyes, yawning, but not tired. He'd been needing less and less sleep lately, only one or two hours a night, really. Another ghost thing, he guessed.

He rummaged around inside the wall behind the sink, arm intangible as he pulled out a battered thermos. He stuck his tongue out at the green glop that churned around inside it, but downed a couple mouthfuls with a grimace, recapping the thing and putting it back in the wall.

Usually, after his helping of ectoplasm, Danny would go down to the lab and train for a little while, or study, if there were any tests the next day. After the news today though, perhaps he was allowed a little respite from the daily grind.

He flew far and fast that night, wind blowing through his insubstantial form as he went intangible to increase speed. Within the hour he was hovering over Mt. Rushmore, thunderstorm roaring overhead, flashes of light illuminating the faces carved there in violent bursts of electric rage. He floated there, still intangible, looking at the faces of history's greats.

"What made you so special?" He asked aloud, barely hearing himself over the crack of lightning and following explosion of thunder, ignoring the way the sound seemed to make the earth itself shake.

"What did you do, that people remember you for hundreds of years?" He looked at his hands.

"Why doesn't anyone talk about your mistakes? Your messes? What were you, that you're remembered as heroes?" Another clap of light, and the roar that followed shook the trees, one small sapling actually breaking as the wind and rain became too much. The pounding of the rain hitting the world sounded like it did in everywhere – rain was constant, rain didn't change. But as he looked up into the black sky, lightning flashing again, illuminating the clouds, Danny realized something.

"Clockwork is right. It's just me. It's always just been me. I'm the one with powers, so I'm the one fighting." He looked at his gloved hands again, the faint-transparency of intangibility turning the silver gloves lighter, whiter.

"But how do I change that? It's not like anyone else could even help, not as much as they'd need to, to actually help…" He frowned, turning back to look at the President's heads. He floated there, just staring at the mountain in the storm for a while more, before turning back the way he came, and flying home. There were parents to take care of, and sleep was calling his name.

_~Early morning, in the Ghost Zone~_

Clockwork watched as his main screen changed from Danny's sandwich-making, which was getting boring anyways, and began focusing instead on one of many future possibilities. One of the decidedly-less likely ones, a single scientific accident dictated whether or not this would actually happen, and for humanities' sake, Clockwork hoped it didn't. However, this future could prove useful to him. After sabotaging its cause, he'd be free to make use of it in any way he needed, and sabotage was always easy for the Ancient. What he'd be doing with the future after it became an impossibility was the hard part though. This world he was watching now was not a kind one, and the young man he'd be sending in would take the lessons with difficulty. Hopefully though, he'd be able to overcome the cruel life of that reality. If he didn't, he would break.

But Clockwork knew Daniel well. He had overcome trials that would've crippled others, taking on impossibilities and succeeding where none expected him to. But that wasn't what worried the Time Master.

Daniel could easily succeed in that world, but would he be able to live with himself afterwards? Would he be able to do what he had to, to save what remained of humanity? Would he be able to earn the trust of those hardened by years of harsh survival? Could he lead them?

Only one way to find out.

_~The next morning, Danny's room~_

The halfa sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as his father's mumbling and accusations made it through the wood of his door.

"That damned Phantom again. He's so scared of us finding him, he doesn't even want us to get up. Needs the head start to keep ahead of us."

"I don't know where the shield went, Jack, so we're going to have to deal with it until we catch the scum ourselves. Then we'll make a new one." His mother replied, and Danny sighed, getting out of bed and throwing a shirt and pants on as he heard the front door open. There wasn't a sound of it shutting, but that wasn't unusual.

He used the restroom, brushed his teeth, tried to make his hair at least look like he tried, then headed downstairs. He shut and locked the door his parent's had left open, and pocketed the stack of bills they'd left on the coffee table in the living room. Breakfast consisted of another swig of ectoplasm, then he turned back to the front door, transforming into Phantom and preparing to fly off to school.

Before he even floated off the floor, though, time stopped. Danny was frozen, one foot off the ground, as a blue portal swirled open beside him.

Clockwork floated through, placing a medallion over the young King's head. Danny resumed his floating before noticing something had changed, and turned to the Ancient in surprise.

"Clockwork? What's wrong?" he asked. Usually his mentor/guardian only showed up outside of the Zone if there was a problem, otherwise he'd just send a message for Danny to meet him at the Tower. The purple clad ghost just gave Danny an unreadable look, and opened another portal.

"There are dangers through here you cannot imagine. Not from ghosts, or technology, but from horrors and monsters. This future is no longer possible, or sending you there would not be allowed, but it's real to those within it, if not to the current timeline. Do not expect help from me except in the most dire of situations. Use what you have learned, but keep your abilities secret. The unknown is not welcome here. Keep your head down, and eyes open. Do what must be done."

Danny stared at Clockwork, mouth slightly gaping as he listened.

"What are you-"

"Protect these people, Daniel. Work with them. You are not alone, and pretending to be will only bring pain and suffering. I will bring you back when you are ready."

"Clockwork, what's through there?" Danny asked, the ominous foreboding was nearly tangible, seeping from the blue swirling vortex. The Ancient blinked, but remained expressionless.

"Something that you must learn from. I hope, for your sake and the world's, that you can survive it." And with that, he moved the portal towards the boy, too fast to dodge, and the Halfa was sent through.

"_Sit securus, cave confortare_." He said to the empty space, then disappeared back to the Tower. He had to keep an eye on the young King, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Flying through time and space is never a pleasant experience. There's this feeling of weightlessness, which for Danny was nothing new, but when it was accompanied by vertigo, nausea, dizziness, and a rather unpleasant migraine, the whole weightless thing doesn't work as well. When the world is spinning, being grounded is a nice feeling, and the utter lack of direction and gravity was working with the spinning to make time-travel an experience he never wanted to repeat. He tried to focus on not losing what food he actually had in his stomach as the vortex faded, the unfamiliar world around him coming into focus as the effects wore off.

Every post-apocalyptic movie Danny had ever seen seemed to fit into the landscape he now stood it. The dilapidated buildings, the foliage fighting its way through the concrete of the roads, and the skeletons of long-abandoned buildings. Glass shards sparkled like ice around the buildings surrounding the empty former parking lot he found himself standing in, and aged, moth-eaten curtains blew gently out of more than one open window. A gentle breeze floated by, the rustling of the leaves of a small grove of saplings nearby giving the entire scene a feeling of eerie peace. There were no birds calling, or the normal rumble of life that would usually accompany a town.

In fact, there didn't seem to be anything around except for the plants that had made their way back into the urbanized world. No squirrels, no birds, no bugs – nothing.

Danny shivered in the calmness, instincts honed from years of fighting for his life screaming at him that something was very wrong here, and he needed to get gone. Said experience had made him trust those instincts, and he looked around warily, dropping into a slight crouch as he moved behind an over-turned car, back to a solid brick wall, keeping as many windows as possible in sight. Something out there was watching him, and he didn't want to know what it thought about him appearing out of thin air.

The old Jeep served as a nice shield for his left side as he examined the windows to his right, trying to spot whatever was making him so nervous. Other than the curtains though, there was nothing. A peek over the Jeep into the couple of windows he was unable to see easily showed the same lack of threat. The wall he had his back to was solid except for a door, probably the back of a store or something like that. No windows in the back, just an employee entrance/exit.

Danny had seen enough horror movies to know he had until sunset to find somewhere safe and secure it, and judging from the shadows stretching across the empty lot, he didn't have a lot of time. He gave the left windows one more examination, then ducked down behind the Jeep, out of sight, and turned invisible, not bothering to change. It was a little more taxing to use his powers as a human, but the light from the transformation would be too obvious in the fading twilight, and if something was watching, he didn't want to give it reason to investigate.

He floated off the ground, levitating slowly so he didn't disturb the vegetation and give himself away, and hovered a few meters over the roof of the pizza place he'd taken shelter behind, waiting for something to come out of the ruined buildings.

He nearly fell out of the air, though, when the door to the pizza place he'd dismissed at safe flew open with an ear-shaking crash. Tense and scared, he went perfectly still, devoting more focus to making sure he was still invisible, and keeping it that way. Whatever had forced the door open so abruptly remained in the shadow of the door, though Danny's powers had long-since bled into his human half, and that included heightened senses, like vision, and he could make out a feline-shaped form crouched in the doorway, head turning slowly, scanning the lot for, well, him.

He did drop a few feet from the shock when the creature stepped out into the light, however, stopping short of landing on the roof by just a few feet. He froze again, hoping that the beast below didn't notice the slight _whoosh_ of air that his descent had made, and turned intangible too, so any further slips wouldn't affect his surroundings and give him away.

Whatever was below him was fundamentally… wrong. Its skin was leathery, and looked rancid, boils and blisters oozing all over, rotted slashes and gouges filled with a black, maggoty mess. He silently gagged as the smell floated up to him, decaying flesh giving off the stench strongly, especially for only a few seconds of exposure. A cloud of flies followed the thing, landing on and in the thing's body, and it didn't seem to care as it sniffed around, focusing on the spot Danny had crouched. It had the basic shape of a cougar, sleek and dangerous, but looked like it was falling apart. One ear was missing, its empty perch a mess of black gunk. Claws padded the pavement, covered in gore and pieces of whatever the thing had last at still stuck between the toes. Half the thing's cheek had been torn off, exposing yellowed canines and a swollen black tongue.

Danny floated back up a few feet as the thing sniffed around, and if it still had a tail, it'd be twitching in anticipation as it hunted. He froze again though, as a single leaf floated through him, and landed right in front of the thing. Empty sockets seemed to focus on the fallen leaf, and then its head turned to 'stare' right at the halfa. Its remaining lips peeled back as it seemed to sneer at him, and it crouched, hissing.

He didn't wait for it to jump. Danny gave up all pretense of stealth save the invisibility, and flew up and away. He took a second to look back as he heard a snarl, and watched the thing fall only a few inches short of where he'd been floating, twenty feet from the creature. It landed on the roof, yowling in protest that its prey had escaped, and his heart skipped a few beats as the town came alive in response. He shot straight up, the howls, snarls, caws, and screams following him as he disappeared into the clouds.

_What the hell?! _He thought, trying to stop shaking. He gave up his invisibility and transformed, the clouds hiding the flash of light as Phantom replaced Fenton. A tangible feeling of confidence peeked through the terror as his ghost half's fearlessness seeped into the horror he was lost in. White-gloved hands clenched into fists and stopped shaking, though it took a few minutes longer to get his breathing under control.

_It's fine, I've seen ghosts in worse states, right?_ Actually, he didn't know if he had. Ghosts never rotted like that. All the wounds afflicting the already-dead ectoplasmic beings healed quickly, and without tangible flesh, couldn't actually bleed, or rot. Being half-human, Danny did have to worry about bleeding out, for larger wounds, but even those healed within a few days, giving infection little chance to set in if he took care of it correctly. But that… thing, had been falling apart.

He shook his head, perhaps a little harder than necessary, trying to clear it. He still had to find somewhere safe, and there was no way he was going back to that town, not with everything in it looking for their next meal. He chose a random direction and took off, flying a bit lower to escape the clouds so he could scout out a nice, secluded hiding place. Based on the flat farmland sprawling in the distance, he was guessing there were some farmhouses specking the countryside, hopefully far enough away from the creatures that they were safe, or at least safer.

A small blue double-wide caught his attention, boarded up and surrounded by razor wire and blackened ground. It was obvious someone had barricaded themselves in it, though it was unclear if they were still there. A well-used burn pit smoldered a few meters away from the wire barrier, ashes floating about in the breeze, and he had a feeling that some of their creatures had met their end here, and been burned. And if it was smoldering, then whoever had burnt it was probably still there.

Danny floated down quietly, adding intangibility to his still invisible self, and cautiously peeked his head through a corner of the trailer. Surprisingly, it was well-kept and well-stocked, canned food filling the door-less cabinets, bottled water lined up meticulously atop the counters, each numbered and dated, with level indicators scrawled on the sides. The place stunk, but mainly of body odor and liquor, instead of the rotting stench he'd smelt before. There were a couple of doors towards the rear, probably bedrooms or bathrooms, though each had been barricaded, thick wooden planks nailed across each door, crisscrossing in a rather impressive barrier. There was a couch in what had once been the living room, cushions dull and worn from heavy use, a blanket strewn across the back of it, pillow on the floor near the head. A couple bottles sat on the coffee table pushed to the wall, one unopened and the other half-empty, a can of white beans open by them, spoon still sitting in it.

The kicker, though, was a single person, about forty or so, who was still sitting on the porch when Danny inspected the outside of the place. He should've done it before he went peeking, but had been a little too anxious to see if someone was inside, because logic said that no-one would be outside, not when the world had died. The man, from the looks of him, had killed himself, blood and grey matter decorating the lawn where he'd taken a bullet to the brain. The red liquid was still oozing out of the mess of the head, and this time Danny couldn't hold it back, turning away from the sight and retching, what little he had in his stomach rising and returning unpleasantly. He mentally shut the sight away for then and phased fully into the trailer, leaning heavily against the barricaded steel door, his shallow breathing sounding harsh in the empty silence of the trailer.

Eyes squeezed shut, he slid down the wall, hugging his knees as he tried to shut out the image he'd just taken in, with limited success. The oozing mess kept drifting to the forefront of his mind, but as he let the ghost in him take a little more reign, the emotion-stunting confidence supported his numbed mind, rationalizing and examining the situation with a calm detachment. Clockwork himself had said that this was an impossible future, useful only for Danny's sake. Nothing here would still exist when he went home, so there was nothing to mourn. The gore splattered on the front of the house was real to this world, but it was apparent that, in this world, he didn't have the time or right to be crippled by a single suicide.

He took a deep, controlled breath, gathering his thoughts, as well as the detached confidence his ghost side was so full of, and transformed back. He pushed himself up and off the wall, walking over to the stocked kitchen to grab a bottle of water. This one hadn't been opened, plastic cap still sealed, and it made a refreshing click as it opened. The water tasted like plastic, but it was clean, and he got the feeling that clean water was a resource he'd be glad to have.

All the windows and doors were expertly boarded up, and as he took a more detailed stock of the room, he noticed a few long-rifles leaning against the two windows with a small hole in the defense, two per hole. The two windows were facing opposite directions, and spent shells were piled up on the floor around them, boxes upon boxes of fresh rounds stacked neatly under the sills, mostly .270 Winchesters, mostly 110 grain heads, but he saw a few boxes of hollow-point scattered in each stack. (His parents had made weapons since he was a kid – ectoplasmic or not, weapons were weapons, and Danny had learned as much as he could about the normal weapons of the world his parents based their designs off of before focusing on their own designs.)

There were also a few handguns on the coffee table, a 9mm, a .357 SIG, and a .45 Colt, respective ammunition stacked under the table. The Colt seemed in the middle of cleaning, disassembled with oil-stained rag still sitting on the stock. A sawed off leaned against the couch, two boxes of 12-gauge 00 buckshot sitting beside it, along with a finely sharpened ax, head glinting in the remain daylight seeping through the hole in the window.

All-in-all, a rather impressive arsenal. Danny was nearly certain that whoever the man on the porch had been, he'd been one of the crazies you see on TV – stocking up for the end of days, buying bulk ammunition and non-perishable food, getting ready to survive in a world against them.

Too bad they never planned for hopelessness. That feeling of isolation that came with living alone, fighting day and night to keep living, when you don't know what you're even living for anymore. It was obvious that this was a one-person home, meant for somewhere to sleep, but not to live.

Danny would take what he could carry, and leave in a couple days. Transforming again, he sent out a shield around the trailer, feeding enough energy to support in until morning, unless it was attacked, and if it was attacked, he would feel it. A little extra effort made the shield invisible, because a giant glowing green dome was hardly inconspicuous, and transformed back, yawning. He flipped the couch cushions over and threw the blanket onto the floor, and fell onto the make-shift bed. He was asleep quickly.

_~6:17 am, the next morning~_

Danny woke up to the noise of the explosion more so than the negligible damage it did to his shield. He groaned and turned over, waking up quickly when this sent him off the couch. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked towards the still-barricaded door, listening to the angry shouts outside the place. He grabbed one of the scoped Winchesters, easing the barrel through the space in the window to look out towards the disturbance, still blinking sleep out of his eyes.

There were about fifteen people huddled around the invisible barrier, and smoke was spiraling away from the blackened ground that had once been flat and solid. A few stood facing away from the house, keeping watch, while the others talked and argued, gesturing wildly at the house, and probably at the body on the porch. A couple trucks, decked out with steel noses, razor-wire lined beds, and one even had a .50 cal machine gun mounted haphazardly in the defended bed, one man manning it, swinging the barrel across the landscape as he kept watch.

A couple men broke away from the group, heading to the other truck and removing what looked like a box of mining dynamite – probably what they'd used the first time. Based on how easily the man was carrying the crate, it probably only had a few charges left, and it looked like they were going to use the rest of their stock to try to take the shield down. Of course, Danny was used to shielding against blows dozens of time stronger than mere dynamite, and when he'd made the shield he was working off that standard. Mortal blasts would barely scratch it.

However, he doubted that would stop them. People with dynamite were usually a persistent bunch, and if the explosives didn't work, they'd just find something else and keep trying. He bit his lip, and drained the majority of energy from the shield, enough that the imminent blast would probably take it down. He grabbed a military-style duffle bag (one of the large over-the-shoulder bags), and cleared the kitchen of everything edible, as well as a couple utensils. Thanking anyone listening for the strength his ghost half gave him, he gathered all the ammunition he could fit into the bag, leaving a couple boxes of .270 that he didn't think would fit, as well as two of the rifles. The other two, as well as the sawed-off, SIG, and 9mm went into the bag, though the rifles he actually strapped to the outside, rather than trying to stuff them in. The two handguns went into the canvas pockets with a box of ammo each. The Colt he re-assembled and loaded, the heavy feel of the revolver strangely reassuring in his hand, and he slid it into his pocket, thankful that they were deep enough for the gun. A box of .45 went into the other, the remaining rounds weighing down his jeans, making him glad he'd finally given in and started wearing belts.

He searched the closets and found a large hunter's jacket in the one by the door and slipped it on, after turning in intangible and letting all the dust and trash fall out of the thing. He winced a little as another explosion rattled the trailer, and he felt the shield break. A flickering of green showed the dying barrier, and he heard the cheers of the men outside. Hoisting the bag, he transformed, counting on the green distraction to hide the flash, and turned invisible and intangible, flying up through the ceiling just as he heard the swearing outside as the men examined the dead man on the porch. He floated above the group, noting the continued watch that had moved with them, and listened, trying to get what information he could out of the red-necks.

"Poor guy, couldn't take it." One man, a large man, with a wild brown beard and smooth shaved head, took off his hat as he looked down at the mess.

"I told him last month that we might be late… I guess he thought we weren't coming this time." Another said, this one smaller than the rest, large glasses glinting in the sunrise peeking over the fields.

"Idiot had it coming, trying to live out here all alone. Should'a come with us when we told 'im to." A third scoffed, kicking the dead man's limp boot. "At least he did it right. Wouldn't want ta have'ta deal with 'im later."

The group muttered and nodded, some crossing themselves, other spitting off the porch. The big man shrugged.

"Bring over one of the axes, he'd got some good stuff inside that he don't need anymore." The small man nodded, and jogged over to the truck, pulling out a rusted, heavy-looking axe, and walked back to hand it to the big man. Danny decided it would be a good idea to leave just as the axe came down on its first swing, and the door cracked, splinters flying with the powerful swing, and he was far enough away that even his enhanced hearing strained to hear the outraged shouting and swearing that came from the discovery of an empty trailer. Over that, though, he heard a soft snarl, 30 feet below him, and he looked down to a pack of creatures. Nearly two dozen of them, led by the rotted feline that he'd encountered in town. They must have run all night to get this far, though how they'd tracked him when he had been hundreds of feet above the ground, but they were headed straight for the group he'd left behind. The pack following the lead feline were all in similar states of decay, black skin falling off in places, though most were canine, (former) feral dogs, by the looks of them.

Danny went intangible, hoping that would prevent them scenting him, and as they tore by him he relaxed a little. But as he looked back at the tiny silhouette of the trailer in the horizon, he realized that, even with their weapons and machine guns, the chances of the group he'd left behind were negligible, and they would lose a lot of men.

Cursing his hero-complex, Danny turned a 180 and flew back towards the trailer. He lost the intangibility as he flew behind the pack, thankful the wind was on his side and blowing his scent away from the running creatures, and focused an ectoblast in one hand. When he was satisfied, he threw in a wide arc, and it hit the ground with a muted _thumme_, carving a large furrow behind the pack, and lighting up with an ethereal green wall of flame. A second blast did the same to the pack's left, with a third to the right. The things paused at the obvious herding, but the unnatural flame danced around them, and the only way out was forward.

The feline leader yowled and charged forward, canine pack following. By now the blasts had alerted the group at the trailer, and Danny could slightly make them out as they piled into the trucks and… headed straight for the pack.

"Idiots!" Danny hissed out, tense as he tried to figure out what to do now. The two groups, monsters and men, were headed straight for each other, and the result would be a bloody one. He dismissed the flames, leaving dark gouges in the ground, where the ectoplasmic fire had burned the dirt itself, and flew ahead of the pack, floating down to the ground behind a rather large oak, one of the few trees that dotted the farmland, and transformed back, hanging the heavy bag on one of the strong limbs of the old tree. He unstrapped one of the rifles, the one with the most powerful scope, and took a box of ammo out of the bag. He climbed the tree, taking position on one of the large branches, resting the barrel on one of the slimmer limbs, facing the inevitable meeting ground of the two forces. The bolt-action rifle was one of the older models, but with the six-round slide-clip and well-used and focused scope, it was the more dependable of the two rifles he'd grabbed. It was easy to see the creatures thundering towards the humans, some even leaving little rotted pieces of themselves behind as they ran. Danny had experience with hunting with Grandpa Fenton before he'd disowned the family, and even then the young halfa had occasionally been driven out to the old family cabin by Jazz for some 'normal' man-time, and was ready for the recoil that pounded back on his shoulder as he took the first shot.

A slower canine at the back of the pack fell as the large round tore through its shoulder and chest, rotten flesh exploding out from the force as the thing stumbled and collapsed, skidding and leaving chunks behind. The others in the pack just kept running, intent on the humans that had just come into view. Danny slid the bolt back, sliding another round into place, and sighted down the scope again, barrel traveling slightly with the target as he fired again, this time straight through the thing's neck. Its head and body flew in different directions, and now the pack was down to about fifteen, but seemed to be gaining more speed as the chase grew frantic. By now the group of humans had realized how many of the things there were, and the big man was shouting frantic orders to the others and the two trucks slowed and formed a V, men jumping out to stand between them, some crouched, others standing, like those old formations from the Revolution. The .50 cal fired off short, precise bursts, but the creatures were too far away for it to do much damage, a quartet of 6-shot bursts only brought down one of the things – the rest just sped up even more.

Danny took another shot, and another, and another, a creature falling with each round. When the chamber clicked empty, he slid a new clip in and repeated the process. When the creatures did finally get within range of the humans, there were only a handful left, including the big feline. Danny slid another clip in and took a deep breath – he had a hunch that the cat-thing would be more difficult to take down than to canines. He sighted, exhaled, and pulled the trigger, putting a round straight through the thing's skull, through the back and spinal cord, and out the front. It fell with more grace than something that fundamentally wrong had any right to, sliding to a stop meters in front of the first truck. The big man, who had been pumping round after round into the thing's chest, seemed to shudder slightly, as if he'd been sure he was a dead man, and looked around for his savior.

Danny ignored that, and put one last round into the final canine. Bodies were spread across the run, chunks of long-decaying flesh scattered where the things had slid as they collapsed. Danny took another deep breath and scanned each body, making sure each one was out of commission. He hadn't killed them – anything in that state was long since gone, but the question still remained of what on Earth they were, and perhaps after saving their hides, the group of humans would be willing to at least explain to him what was going on.

The trucks were headed towards the tree now, someone in the group had a good sense of direction, and probably seen where the shots were flying from. Danny jumped down from the branch, swinging the rifle over his shoulder and doing his best to look non-threatening to the approaching red-necks. Of course, with a rather impressive arsenal slung over the other shoulder (the canvas bag and other rifle, along with handguns and shotgun, but they didn't know that), made the gesture rather futile.

Regardless, he gave a casual-serious wave of his hand when the trucks stopped, subtly making sure the gun in his pocket was loaded, safety off – ready for trouble. He'd refrain from using his powers as much as possible, wouldn't want to scare the locals. The big man stepped out from the passenger side of the lead truck, the one with the machine gun, and returned the wave. The short man followed him, staying behind the big man as they approached Danny.

"That was some impressive shooting, kid. Gotta thank you for the save." The big man was quieter than he seemed he should've been as he gave the halfa an appraising look, and stuck a meaty hand out to shake. Danny took it and shook, resisting the man's crushing grip and replying in turn. The man smiled.

"Name's Levi. This here is Gerald." He gestured to the short man. Danny nodded and re-claimed his hand.

"Danny." He replied, shrugging the slipping bag back fully onto his shoulder, which drew Levi's attention.

"Looks like you're packed for an impressive trip there, kid. You really crazy enough to think you'd survive that long outside the Colonies?" He asked, raising a bushy eyebrow, but Gerald seemed to realize something and pushed up beside Levi.

"Not Colonies, I think – not with that skill." The small man looked at Danny, straight in the eyes. "You're from a Settlement." He said, and Danny cocked his head slightly, while Levi laughed.

"Gerald, you think we'd be lucky enough to find anyone from a Settlement, let alone a Marksman? Sounds like you should lay off the grey stuff." Levi said, but seemed to pause for a second as he studied Danny.

"You're… not from a Settlement, are you?" He asked, hope barely noticeable through the gruff exterior. Danny took this to mean being from a Settlement was a good thing, and something to run with. He had to play his cards right though…

"Actually, I am, but left a while back." Jaws dropped.

"Which one? Fairview? Or… or maybe even Ada?" Gerald asked. Danny blinked. _Where the heck am I?_ He asked himself, even as Levi scoffed.

"Ada got overrun weeks ago. Marksmen capitol of Oklahoma or not, there not a lot anyone can do when a flippin' tornado destroys half your wall."

_Ah. Oklahoma then. That explains it._ Danny shrugged mentally, and decided to go with his gut.

"I'm actually from Ada. Managed to get out before we got swarmed. Don't know if anyone else made it though, I was on watch when it happened, and just grabbed stuff and ran for it." He said, and winced a little at the rather heartless front he was putting on.

"No family, huh?" Levi asked kindly, a strange sound coming from a man like him, and Danny just nodded, going along with it. The big man seemed to think something over for a second, then clapped his big hands together and turned to Gerald, voice back to booming.

"I think he can come with us. Anyone who can shoot that good is okay in my books. If he gets past the IQEs, then I think he'll come in handy." Gerald just nodded meekly, taking another quick look at Danny before scurrying back into the truck. Levi put a big hand on the young King's shoulder, and gave him a rather feral grin.

"You in?" He asked, and Danny was pretty sure it was more an expectation than a request. Besides, if he said no, then they'd get suspicious of a single teen wandering around the farmlands of what was apparently Oklahoma alone. He nodded, and followed Levi to the truck, climbing in the back with the big man, who switched places with another, the other climbing into the shotgun Levi left empty. The other three men in the back of the truck gave Danny the same appraising glances as Levi did, and then turned to the big man. Levi gave a thumbs up, winking at Danny. The men relaxed then and started talking while the trucks headed off, back to the trailer, then past it, heading into the rising sun.

When the dirt road turned to pavement, Danny asked where they were headed.

"There's a colony in Alva. It's a little close to Cherokee, but far enough that we don't get a lot of packs like the one you took down. That group even had a fuckin' Lionid. Shit's getting real there, I'm guessing. If the cougars are turnin too, we've got even more to worry 'bout. Coyts we can handle, but those Lionids have this… intelligence to 'em that I don't like."

Danny guessed that the feline leading the pack had been the Lionid, with Coyts making up the following. He kept silent though, not wanting to give away his ignorance. The big man just kept talking though, no prompting needed.

"Must'a followed Danny here." He patted said boy on the shoulder, and Danny's breath whooshed out under the assault. "Apparently the kid's a Marksman from Ada." He said, pride obvious in his tone. The astonished looks Danny got from the others made him blush, just a little. "Boy took out nearly the entire pack himself, but of course you saw that. One shot each, and all the Blight beasts were out. We took out, what, two with the .50?" The others laughed and started talking amongst themselves. Levi turned to Danny.

"This here's Buck," the large blond man in flannel next to Danny. "Dave," A squat man with dark hair. "and Louis (_Lou-ee_)." A giant of a man, kind of what he imagined Tucker would look like if he was 6'7" with 290lbs of muscle. How Danny missed him was beyond him, but he shook hands with the trio, then settled back, listening to the men's imagined reasons for the shield they'd blasted. He restrained a smirk that threatened as they settled on blaming aliens.

They slowed as they reached a rather impressive barricade, a well-constructed sheet-metal and concrete wall, the name "Alva Colony" spray-painted next to a large door… thing. It was metal, but had thick lumber crisscrossing across the four-meter high gates, tires haphazardly attached to the bases to make opening and closing the thing easier. The lead truck honked twice, and Levi shouted "Alpha-Oscar-Whisky, dicks!" and laughs echoed off the metal as the people on guard laughed. The doors opened wide enough for the trucks, and closed immediately after the second one. Ahead of the group was another gate, this one a little thicker and stockier, a pull-apart rather than swinging.

They parked the trucks and everyone piled out, most heading for a small shack in the corner of the boxed in portal area. Danny made to follow them, but Levi's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up at the man.

"Sorry, boy, but we gotta get you cleared before we left you mingle. You know the drill. IQE's here are nicer about it than they are at the Settlements, I hear." Danny blinked, momentarily forgetting his cover.

"IQE's?" He asked, and Levi gave him a confused look.

"Infection Quarantine Enforcers. You call 'em something else in Ada?" He asked, eyebrow raised. Danny smiled weakly, mind racing to find an excuse.

"Um… yeah. We just usually call 'em Icks." He said, hoping the humor would diffuse the man's confusion. It worked, Levin throwing his head back and laughing.

"Yeah, I suppose that works pretty well, doesn't it!" He said, steering Danny inside a larger, more rectangular shack on the opposite side of the area. The door opened to what looked like a run-down waiting room, the sick smell of antiseptic permeating the air, barely covering the smell of vomit. His nose immediately took offense, and he gagged a little.

"Yeah, it's never nice in here. Hopefully they'll get you cleared quickly, and we can go in for testing. Gotta see what you can do!" The man said, taking Danny to one of the back rooms and depositing him in a musty chair. He backed up, giving Danny a thumbs up.

"I'll wait out here. Good luck." And he shut the metal door. Danny blinked at the abrupt exit, and jumped nearly out of his skin when a curtain rustled in the corner he hadn't noticed before, and revealed a middle-aged doctor-looking person, decked out in a hazmat suit and gas mask. She gave him a kind, but sad smile as she looked him over.

"Well, at least you're in one piece. I'm getting sick of these idiots bringing me half-eaten corpses. Always leaves a mess. Shirt and pants off please." She asked, turning to a dirty table across from the door and picking up the old notebook that was resting there. Danny opened his mouth, about to ask what the crap was going on, before just accepting it, shrugging out of his shirt and unbuckling his jeans, standing there in his boxers, pants down around his ankles where they'd been caught by his shoes. The woman gestured at those.

"Shoes and socks too. There's a relatively clean carpet square you can stand on to your right, if you're not a fan of dirty feet." He took her advice, and was soon standing on the sample, clothing and shoes stacked neatly atop the chair he'd vacated. Personally, he was glad he'd finally decided Fenton needed as much work as Phantom, and had been working out as both, gaining muscle as Fenton. It was less embarrassing when he thought he had something to show off.

His ghost side's healing factor had taken care of most of the scars hundreds of injuries should have left him, leaving only a few impressive gouges or ropes of scar tissue on his chest, with some nice claw marks on his legs, and an old burn on his right arm. Judging by the woman's lack of reaction, though, injuries like that were far more common here than they were back home. She looked him over, poking and prodding some of the more recent scarring, jotting scribbled notes on her book as she examined him. She nodded to herself when she seemed through, turning away from him, back to the table, where she kept writing.

"Those claw scars, they from a Blight?" She asked calmly.

"Nope." Danny said, not bothering to explain Bertrand's more vicious attack. The woman laughed a little, to herself.

"Of course they aren't. You'd be dead by now if they were." She said, and Danny remained quiet, jus raising an eyebrow at the strange doctor. She turned, and smiled at him behind the mask.

"Tell Levi out there you're clear to go. Take this," She handed him a flimsy strip of paper. "It's your pass. Hold onto it, 'cause I sure as hell ain't gonna write you a new one." And with that, she turned, and disappeared behind the curtain once more.

Danny looked after her, but shrugged and exited the room, passing her off as a little less than sane. Seemed most people were a little loose in the head here anyways. He presented the slip to Levi as he left the room, and the big man grinned.

"Of course, of course. Any Marksman would'a just offed himself if he got infected, right? Ain't that part of the code or sometin'?" Levi asked, and Danny just shrugged.

The big man led Danny to a heavy steel door at the end of the hall, and knocked. When the thing was hauled open, the halfa winced, shielding his eyes, and the mid-day sun proved a stark contrast to the interior 'lighting' of the 'building' he was in.


End file.
